Shawn in the Dark
by YankeeFan87
Summary: Shawn Takes a Shot in the Dark tag...follows right after the chase scene finishes and includes some Shules. Spoilers for Shawn Takes a Shot in the Dark.


**Disclaimer: Don't own Shawn or any psych characters.**

**Another tag! Seems I like the plot lines that psych comes up with way more than I like the ones I can think up on my own. Also, I know I'm a horrible person for saying I'd finish my other story and then writing a whole new one...but I've just wanted to write this tag for awhile and I couldn't put it off anymore. I will finish my other story next...I promise. **

**So this is a tag to Shawn Takes a Shot in the Dark...basically taking place right after Shawn shoots out the bad guy's truck. I know it's been done many times, but this includes some Shules and some discussion of the phone call. I hope you like it!**

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><p>"Drop it! Drop it now! Hands where I can see them! Hands!"<p>

Shawn stumbled away from the car, wincing as Lassiter's voice pierced through his aching skull. The adrenaline that had kept him going ever since he'd been shot seemed to vanish the second he knew he was no longer in danger. The bullet wound throbbed in time with the pounding in his head and a bone-weary exhaustion threatened to drop him.

"Shawn, come here, come here. Come here, son." He felt his father's hands on his shoulders, steadying him, but a wave of dizziness overtook him and he stumbled on rubbery legs.

"Da..ad. Dad," he groaned, hoping his father would be able to take his weight.

"Come here, that's it," Henry told him, voice unusually comforting. Keeping an arm around Shawn, Henry led him to the side of Lassiter's car, helping him to lean against it. When he was sure Shawn wasn't about topple over, Henry move to help Lassiter hold down the jackass who had hurt his son.

"Nice shooting, detective," Lassiter said, impressed.

Shawn may have been out of it, but he definitely heard that. "Did you just call me detective?" he slurred.

"No," Lassiter immediately denied.

"Hey, shouldn't we wait for Diesel and Rodriguez before you slap the cuffs on him?" Shawn raised a sluggish hand to point at the Blueberry which was currently limping its way toward them, the front tire completely blown out. Lassiter rolled his eyes, cuffing the perp to the police cruiser by himself, giving him a hard shove for good measure. He stepped away from the car to see Shawn clinging to the hood, his head bent low. Henry was by his side, a firm hand on his back, whispering something too quietly for Lassiter to hear.

"He okay?" Lassiter asked in an uncharacteristic display of concern.

Henry looked up, as if just remembering the head detective was there. "He's having trouble breathing," he told him worriedly. "I think he may be going into shock."

"Shawn!" Lassiter heard Gus yelling his best friend's name and he looked back to see Gus's car abandoned. Juliet and Gus were hurrying towards them, clearly concerned for their friend.

"Let's get him onto the ground," Lassiter said decisively, thinking back to the first-aid course he'd taken back when he was still at the academy. Henry nodded, and they both took one of Shawn's arms, trying best to ignore the soft moans he let out as they jostled his beaten body. Juliet and Gus were hovering by them, trying to offer their help.

"Shhh," it's okay, Henry soothed, leading Shawn to the pavement behind Lassiter's car. They lowered him to the ground, Henry letting Shawn's lean back against his chest. Lassiter could hear Spencer panting for breath and was shocked at the paleness of his skin. Shock definitely seemed like a good assessment.

"We need to get him flat, raise his legs," Lassiter said, reciting what he knew. Henry nodded, looking back to Juliet.

"Detective, can you slide in here?" Henry asked, motioning for Juliet to take his place. She nodded, immediately helping to support Shawn as they coaxed him to lie down. "I need to go get something from the car," Henry explained as he got up quickly.

Shawn had his eyes closed, but he was mumbling something incoherently. "What's he saying?" Gus asked from his perch next to Juliet.

Juliet shook her head in response. "Shawn," she said gently. Shawn cracked open an eye to look up at her.

"Jules!" he slurred with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. "Gus!" he said in the same tone when he noticed his best friend looking down at him. "Feels like I'm on a tilt-a-whirl," he mumbled, closing his eyes tightly. Juliet squeezed his shoulder, placing a hand on his forehead, her brow furrowing in concern.

"He have a fever?" Gus asked anxiously.

Juliet shook her head. "Skin's cold and clammy. He needs an ambulance." Shawn reached up, tugging at his shirt.

"Too tight," he insisted when Juliet tried to stop him. He began squirming on the ground, trying desperately to loosen his shirt. "Can't...breathe," he panted.

"Shawn, calm down," Juliet said firmly. Grasping his hands. "I'll loosen it, but you need to stay still." Gus was amazed that Shawn did as Juliet had ordered. Juliet unbuttoned Shawn's shirt, pulling it away from his neck. She took the opportunity to check out his bullet wound, wincing at the bloody mess that lay beneath the shoddy bandage job. "He really needs an ambulance," she repeated.

"I radioed for one about 5 minutes ago. Should be here soon," Lassiter supplied.

"Detective!" Henry shouted as he ran back from the car, carrying a bottle of water in one hand. "Do you have blankets?"

Lassiter cursed himself for not thinking of that. "Yeah, there are some emergency blankets in the car," he told him, already going to the trunk.

Henry went with him, gathering up all the blankets Lassiter had. "We can prop his feet up with one of these too." Lassiter nodded, following him back to where Shawn lay. "Can you lift his legs up?" Henry asked, bunching up the blanket. Lassiter complied, ignoring Shawn's weak protests.

Once Henry was satisfied that Shawn's legs were raised sufficiently high, he went back to kneel by his son's head. Lassiter unwrapped the other two blankets, tucking them around Shawn as tightly as he could, noticing with concern that the psychic had started to shiver violently.

"Shawn," Henry said, repeating it a little more loudly when Shawn didn't open his eyes.

"Da..ad," Shawn croaked out. "Where 'm I?"

Instead of dwelling on the fact that Shawn was clearly experiencing confusion from the shock, Henry explained the situation, patiently and calmly. "Do you need anything?"

Shawn seemed to think over the question. "Mmm thirsty," he mumbled.

Henry was about to give him the water when Gus held him up. "If he's in shock, he could choke on the water." Shawn waited expectantly for a drink and he looked so miserable that Henry couldn't help but give in.

"Just a little," he reasoned with Gus.

Gus nodded. "If he starts to choke or vomit, we need to turn him, make sure he doesn't aspirate." Henry nodded.

"Shawn, I can only give you a little water for now, okay? But the ambulance is going to be here soon and they'll fix you right up." Juliet helped raise Shawn's head while Henry tipped a little water into his son's mouth, taking it away before Shawn could quench his thirst. Shawn let out a choked whimper, but Henry knew he'd had all he could handle. "Sorry, kid. Just hang in there."

The distant whine of the ambulance siren was the most beautiful sound Henry had ever heard, and he squeezed Shawn's shoulder encouragingly before standing up to talk to the paramedics. Lassiter came with him, ordering them around like they were members of the SBPD, and Henry was all too happy to let the head detective take over. He returned to Shawn's side, waiting with him until the EMTs approached and took over. Henry stood back, allowing himself to breathe for the first time since all this mess had started, knowing that Shawn was going to be alright. He felt a swell of pride as he thought about all that Shawn had done since he'd been kidnapped. Sure, Henry, Lassiter, Juliet, and Gus had played an important role in finding Shawn, but when it all came down to it, he had really saved himself. He had faced an impossible situation and he had survived.

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><p>As it turns out, being shot, hit in the head, and nearly choked to death can take a serious toll on the human body. Not to mention jumping on a car moving at speeds in excess of 60 miles per hour. Still, if Shawn was being honest, he felt infinitely better now than he had just a few short hours ago when his body had begun to shut down on him. He couldn't remember much from the time between jumping on Lassie's car and the ambulance arriving, just the awful, shaky feeling that had enveloped him. Since he'd arrive at the hospital, Shawn had been given the go-ahead to drink as much water as he wanted, but he'd begun to feel nauseous after only a few sips. At least it no longer felt like the world was spinning, though. And then there was that hole in his shoulder. The infected hole.<p>

Although the bullet had gone through his shoulder cleanly, Shawn's adventure through the woods had inevitably worsened the wound. And a shammy from a mechanic's workshop, though useful for slowing down bleeding, has the tendency to be incredibly unclean. These two aspects had created an infection that the doctors were treating with strong antibiotics that made Shawn feel queasy and exhausted. At least his doctor had seemed optimistic that the infection was improving. Shawn just hoped it improved quickly so that he could get the hell out of the hospital. He was already feeling restless.

Henry was the only one who had been allowed back to visit Shawn, though the doctor had assured him he could see his friends after he'd rested for a little. His dad had been so nice to him that Shawn had begin to feel uneasy. He wasn't practiced in such civility – he only knew how to interact with a snarky, overtly disapproving father. But he wasn't complaining. Too much at least. Henry had left him when Shawn could no longer keep his eyes open, assuring him he would call Maddied to let her know what had happened. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell his dad not to do that, not to worry Mom, but he was unable to convey his thoughts before falling into a restless slumber.

The next time he awoke, it was to Gus sitting beside him, staring at him. "That's creepy," Shawn croaked out, enjoying the look of embarrassment that flashed across Gus's face.

"Shut up, Shawn," he defended himself pathetically. "You were mumbling about pink elephants and balloons. I was concerned."

Shawn nodded, clearly unconvinced.

Gus gave in after a minute. "Fine! I was worried," he admitted. "I thought you stopped breathing."

Shawn choked out a laugh. "Of course you were, Buddy!"

Gus smiled back. "Well I'm glad you're okay. How do you feel?"

Shawn took a second to assess himself. "Better he admitted. Still have a headache and this medication they have me on makes me feel sick. But my shoulder doesn't hurt so bad anymore and the tightness in my chest is gone."

"Good. That's really good," Gus said smiling. "You look much better," he said honestly, thinking back to how pale Shawn had looked lying on the side of the road. He shook his head, trying to clear that image. Shawn was fine; they had gotten him back. "If you ever scare me like that again..."

"Trust me, Gus. I will do everything in my power to make sure that never happens again."

Gus nodded. "No more going to crime scenes alone. Or in the middle of the night."

"Yeah, that probably wasn't my best idea ever."

"Ya think?" Shawn chuckled at Gus's annoyance. "It's not funny, Shawn. You could have died. I don't know what I would have..."

"You don't have to think about that," Shawn said, cutting him off. "I'm fine, and I'm not going anywhere for a long time."

Gus seemed satisfied with that answer. "Have you called Abigail yet?"

Shawn shook his head. "I can't call her. She's already worried enough about what I do. Plus she's at some teacher's conference in Palo Alto."

"She'll wanna know, Shawn. How are you going to explain your shoulder?"

"I'll tell her I hurt it playing basketball with you. You always played dirty."

Gus looked at him like he was an idiot. "And the bullet wound?"

"Oh yeah. I guess that won't work. I can tell her Lassie..."

"Why don't you just tell her the truth? If she finds out, you're going to be in big trouble."

Shawn sighed loudly. "I'll think about it. Did my dad go home?"

"You kidding me? I don't think even Lassie could force him to go home. Last time I saw him, he was in the hallway. I think he was talking to your mom on the phone. You should have heard him – I don't think I've ever seen him so proud."

Shawn looked surprised at that. "My dad? _Proud_? Are you sure you had the right guy, Gus?"

"I think I know what your dad looks like by now, Shawn. Even Lassie had to admit, what you did was pretty impressive. Not many people can survive getting shot and kidnapped."

Shawn nodded sleepily. "Thank my dad for that. Maybe he's the psychic one in the family. Sonofabitch knew I'd need to know all that information at some point. Remind me to thank him later."

"You don't need to be psychic to know that you would eventually get yourself into a position like that," Gus deadpanned, standing up.

"Where you going?" Shawn slurred, trying his best to keep his eyes open.

"My butt's asleep from sitting in this chair for so long. And you look like you're gonna be asleep in about 2 minutes. I'll be back later."

Shawn tried to protest but ended up yawning instead. "Kay, buddy, thanks for coming."

"Of course. Do you need anything?"

"Pineapple smoothie," he mumbled.

"I'll see what your doctor says."

"Gus," Shawn whined pathetically. "Don't come back without one!" Gus shook his head, making his way for the door.

"Later, Shawn." Shawn lifted his hand and waved lazily to his best friend. Then he closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

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><p>Shawn was still dozing when he heard a knock on the door. He rolled towards the door but kept his eyes closed. "Gus I told you not to come back without a pineapple smoothie and that was far too quick..." Shawn trailed off, finally opening his eyes to look at his visitor. "Jules!" he said, hoping he didn't sound as surprised as he felt.<p>

"Hey Shawn," Juliet said, standing in the doorway. To Shawn's eyes, she seemed less sure of herself, almost uncomfortable. "Can I come in?"

"Of course," he said a little too quickly. Juliet stepped in to the room, closing the door softly behind her.

"How are you feeling?"

"Pretty good, considering. My shoulder still hurts, but it could be a whole lot worse."

"I'm glad you're okay," she said sincerely. She paused, making eye contact with Shawn for a brief second before dropping her eyes to her hands where she held a notepad and pen. Remembering why she was there in the first place, Juliet held up the small notepad for Shawn to see. "I need to take your statement," she told him apologetically. "We have a ton of evidence on the suspects, but your word will be the final nail in the coffin."

Shawn nodded in understanding, motioning for her to take a seat. "Right, of course," he said, trying to hide his disappointment. "It all started with that ice cream truck accident," he began, telling her an incredibly specific time line of the events that had unfolded. She'd heard most of the basic details from Gus, but she wasn't prepared for Shawn's recap of his shooting and kidnapping. She studied him while he laid out every miniscule detail, right down to the conversations he had had with his attackers. When he was finished, Juliet sat in silence, shocked at the ordeal he had survived.

"Was that what you needed?" Shawn asked, regaining Juliet's attention.

She blinked, nodding yes to his question. "More than enough," she told him. Juliet closed the notepad and stood up. "I should probably get back to the station, get this entered into evidence. Feel better."

"Thanks Jules," Shawn said, watching her as she got up to leave. He saw her hesitate at the door, as if there was something else she wanted to ask. "What is it?"

Juliet turned back towards him. "It's...stupid. Never mind," she said reluctantly, turning to leave again.

"Jules. What's wrong?"

Juliet hesitated again. "_Fine_," she grumbled, walking back towards Shawn. "I was just...I was just wondering why you called me. When you were at the gas station."

It took Shawn a second before his mind registered what she was saying. He had a perfect memory and he'd forgotten all about the phone call. Of course Jules felt awkward around him. Juliet stood by his bed but she didn't sit down this time, as if she was wanted to be able to hurry out the room if she got the wrong answer or one she didn't want to hear.

"You're a good detective, Jules. I knew you would get my message. I knew you would save me."

Juliet didn't seem to buy that answer, though. "But how did you know I would pass it on? Why didn't you call Carlton? Or your father? He was the one who knew about the wind chimes."

"It had to be a girl," Shawn admitted reluctantly. "I told Garth Longmore that I wanted to say goodbye to my girlfriend." He saw Juliet's face drop in understanding. "I couldn't risk that he would hear my dad's voice. He'd have killed me on the spot for lying to him."

Juliet nodded tightly, "Of course. That makes perfect sense," she said, her voice professional. "Thank you for clearing that up." She turned, taking two quick strides to the door. Shawn cursed himself under his breath. This wasn't what he'd wanted. Juliet's hand was on the doorknob when he spoke again.

"I thought I was going to die." Juliet didn't remove her hand from the door, but she didn't open it either. "I thought I was out of chances, Jules." Juliet slowly turned back towards him, and Shawn thought he could see tears in her eyes. "I'd escaped from the trunk of a car, only to end up right back where I started. And then when I saw Lassie and my dad at the station I thought I was saved...and when they just _left_ I was certain I was going to die." Juliet had walked back into the room and she was by Shawn's side again. She took a seat in the chair so she was eye-level with him. "Those reasons I gave you, for why I called _you_ – I just came up with them right now."

Juliet looked at him, confusion evident on her face.

"Truth is, Juliet, I thought I was going to die. And I wanted to hear your voice one more time." The tears that were brimming in Juliet's eyes spilled down her cheeks as she listened to Shawn's confession. Shawn took her hand in his and squeezed it. "That's why I called you, Jules. I just wanted to hear your voice."

Juliet nodded but didn't speak, looking down at her hand resting in his.

"That a better answer?" Shawn asked after a minute.

Juliet choked out a laugh, making eye contact with him again. "Uh huh. Much."

Shawn smiled. "Good." They sat there in silence for a few minutes.

"I should probably get going," Juliet said reluctantly, standing up. She squeezed Shawn's hand and released it. "I'm really glad you're okay, Shawn."

Shawn nodded his thanks, watching as Juliet left. He closed his eyes, vaguely remembering lying on the pavement, his head in Juliet's lap as she comforted him. Things were complicated now – Abigail was his girlfriend and he really did care about her. But the way he felt about Juliet...that was something he'd never felt before. He just needed some time to sort things out. Shawn began to drift off to sleep, the tight pull in his shoulder reminding him why he was in the hospital, and he couldn't help but smile. His head still ached, he was unbearably tired, and the pain in his shoulder was sure to bother him for weeks. His body was beaten and broken and he should have felt awful. But somehow, he'd never felt better in his life.

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><p>THE END! I hope you enjoyed that little Shules moment and the rest of the tag. Thanks for reading! Please review :)<p> 


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